


The Duchess Of Broken Hearts

by ShinigamiSlingby



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:38:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9147082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinigamiSlingby/pseuds/ShinigamiSlingby





	1. Even Ghosts Forget

They say that everyone forgets but out here nobody does. Vengeful, twisted faces that never forget your sins, never live in the present. They wish with their whole spectral being that they could come from that hell but their fate had forced  against their freedom. Pale shapes, blanketed by shadows, that harbour the whole power of their otherwise basic human mind. Never sleeping, never forgetting, never dying. They are the exact replica of a vendetta centuries old, moulded to fit the burden of this scorched world's greed and hatred. The lust for power and money grows from the very roots of this hateful void, it was as if they had never left their homes on Earth. The other races didn't fear this end for it was a human characteristic that burdened them with this fiery fate. They are forced to dwell here in this God-forsaken, infernal pit of the past, never to see daylight again. Never to feel the warm touch and compassion of another soul again. They are the stories fearful elven mothers recite to their children in the desperate hopes of making them good and polite. However they are not stories, they are as real as the words that you are reading now and, at the stroke of midnight, they will attempt to take their revenge in any way that they know to be possible.

This is where our story starts, with our Duchess. She had obtained the rights to a small village in the north of Octavia, this is soon to become the centre of attention. She did not mean to be here but something catastrophic happened in her many years. Something that she would rather leave in the past but- as she is here in the flames of the netherworld- she cannot do that. She has no choice but to relive that hell every day. That night in 1886, the night that her wife died. The night that she killed her. She knew the Duchess' secret and this was not a good thing. Normally people would tell their other halves secrets and not dwell on the matter but this is different. She is a Neonblood human and if the king knew, he would have Duchess Elizaveta  Héderváry killed. They are one of the strongest types of empath-healers there are in the 4 kingdoms, they are exiled from Octavia on the grounds of multiple Neonblood related deaths. Her wife was one to talk, when she had consumed enough alcohol, and this was a risk to everything that they both stood for. Her people would turn on her, her land and home would be stripped away. She had to make a choice that would change her life, for better or for worse. . .


	2. Chapter 2

"Is that all, M'lady?" Jaster, the butler, addressed the Duchess with the up-most formality. Elizaveta nodded forcefully and Jaster walked away with not another word said. Nothing pleased both of them more than leaving each others company. In other words, they hated each other. The reason for such hatred is unknown, they both attended the same schools- maybe the imbalance of power struck a sour note in the butler's mind. Elizaveta rolled her eyes and then turned her focus back to the sparkling dance-hall with a sip of her strawberry wine. Why had she taken in such a stupid excuse for a butler in the first place? Incompetent isn't the right word to use for him, maybe downright useless sounds better. He makes things wrong to spite Elizaveta, that much she does know.

Many spectacular colours danced through the pale ivory adorned hall; they twirled and leaped against the sombre coloured backdrop. The intoxicating music drained from the hall, it left the dancers pleading for more. They knew that each dance must end in the same way, a new partner found with each fade of music, but it was if they didn't want this to end. Another song began to play, a folk song from a simpler time. It's name: Denarian Emelae Myx Aeriousa. The melancholy violin played with the uplifting trumpet tone, it was as if they were life long friends. This made Elizaveta think. The crowds are pleased but she is not. She usually found a glimpse of happiness from this song as it reflected a simpler time and the life her family had to live, there were no kingdoms during this time- that was a capitalistic tactic brought by the humans. A long drawn breath escaped her frowning mouth. Her heart isn't free, neither is her mind. Something is troubling the young duchess, something that she cannot comprehend. Something dark. She knew from which source the pain came from but never spoke the words out loud- or even in her mind. To utter even the smallest amount of words on the topic would bring her fear storming straight back. She felt that she is killing the crowd-no, she knows that she is. Her curse affects others rather than herself. The only way it affects her is with the immense guilt, something that she had never been able to get rid of- no matter how old she is, this pain always comes back. Unlike the other empaths, who only feel others emotions, her kind feed off of people's feelings and- much like breathing- it cannot be stopped or shut out. Why, you may ask. Nobody knows, not even the people who are afflicted with the curse know. Doctors have dedicated countless years into finding the cause for such a curse but to no prevail, it is as if the source of this illness wishes to never be found.

"What is the matter, M'lady, are you not enjoying the festivities?" Cecilia,the palace maid from Octavia, asked her. She turned to face the young girl, wine still in hand. Her intentions were sweet but the Duchess could not escape the knowledge that she is killing the young maid and many others. The very thought of her curse angered her but this was something that couldn't be shown in front of someone who doesn't even know that the curse exists. With the other hand, she lifted herself from the chair. She then placed that hand on the girls shoulder. She flinched at her cold and heavy hand falling on her shoulder. Elizaveta laughed at the shock in her actions, normally she would have apologised in great lengths but the alcohol is affecting her conscience.  
"I need to get out of here. My heart yearns for something more. Ah yes, the night sky is just what I need, care to join me?" she answered Cecilia with a slightly drunken reply, her words slurred but still held their great meaning. Cecilia nodded, this accompanied by her ever polite smile. It was clear to see that she doesn't get any invitations to converse with her bosses often as she was shocked by his offer. She knew her work place, they are always too busy.  
"Care for a glass of wine, it's strawberry?" she asked her and, again, she nodded without a word. She doesn't speak that often, it comes with her job description.

As they both made their way onto the balcony, Elizaveta remembered her ache, her missing pieces. With a sigh, she closed the door. Cecilia was already situated at the bar that marked the end of the balcony. She turned to face the Duchess, concern streaked her pale face.   
"What is wrong?" she repeated her question from earlier. She gave a sigh and answered truthfully.   
"Sometimes I wonder about Natalya. Maybe I'm wasting my time with her, she knows of my greatest weakness and this terrifies me to no end. What if she tells the world my secret and the king does kill me?" her intoxicated reply rang through the air. Usually her sober senses would tell her to shut up but, as they are shut off, she would probably tell anyone anything. If she could, she would tell the king his secret and get herself killed for the thrill of someone hanging onto her every word.  
"What do you mean by that M'lady?" Cecila asked, sipping her wine and moving her honey hair from her eyes  
"Y'see, I am neon. I am a neon-blood, the last of my kind to be exact. Well that is debatable but it is what the doctors tell me. They do not speak of the otherlands, where people like me are allowed to live in peace but that is because of fear- I suppose" he answered, looking over the balcony's pointed white barrier and taking in every detail of the city below.

Stars penetrated the darkness, as did the candles that lay on the vacant windows of the houses below. They were some subtle solace but nothing more that a show: flickering flames like puppets on strings. The midwinter's air was alive with something spectacular. It spoke of tragedy, betrayal and guilt, much like the story of the young Duchess' curse. The air spoke of aged burdens and long-lost emotions, they filled any observer with a sight into a fear filled past. They knew what was, what is and what will be. Something that strikes fear into most mortals, but not Elizaveta. She knows where she is going after all, all humans who are spiteful and greedy go there- it is no surprise that she is the same. The darkness spoke of something even greater than all of this combined. It spoke of time that has slipped by and the fragments of hope and passion that lay dormant inside of them, tying people to their humanity. The pale moon held it's tongue for it did no have anything better to say. All of the other celestial beings take up the room for noise, it is the moons job to be silent and steady. This is because the moon is a silent observer, it does not say anything, it only remembers. Just like humans that do not speak, it has a great mind. Wisps of grey danced above the rooftops, it was alive with the dreams of the sleeping mortals. The clouds lay, keeping watch over certain parts of the foggy abyss, oblivious to it's friend's activities.

"Why haven't you told anyone else M'lady?" she asked, her small voice standing out from all of the other noises surrounding the two.  
"Because, Cecilia, people would-" she cut off, realising the conversation's turn. How could she have trusted her, a maid of the lowest ranks, to listen and keep her secret from the boss whom she fears the most? Rage grew inside of her, it was mainly aimed at herself for telling such a low class being.   
"Because they would kill me..." she finished slowly, finally realising the full extent of her mistake. Her eyes became jaded as the consequences to her actions bury into her mind, the torn part of her mind told her what to do- an idea not fit for someone as seemingly delicate as her.   
"Yes and I have just told you everything." she gasped. At this point, she was pacing across the balcony, Cecilia was trying to comfort her.  
"I will not tell anyone" she repeated over and over in the background. Elizaveta would not hear what she had to say for herself.  
"NO! You don't understand, my life and land are both at stake here!" she growled, finding her hands clasped around the young maid's neck. She was struggling to escape her new found iron grip, she punched Elizaveta's arm repeatedly with both fists. This was not working as the duchess was at least five times as strong as she was.   
"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT!?" she spat in her face, pushing her closer towards the edge of the balcony. Tears stormed down her face as she shook her head violently. She could tell by Cecila's eyes that she is killing her hope, her life but Elizaveta feels nothing. No remorse, nothing anymore. The alcohol is the one who did this, her slip of the tongue did this- not her. She was still a good person, God knows that she is still a good person. She wrapped her hands even tighter around the girl's throat and witnessed the life drain from her body, she hung limply in her grip by the end of the violent episode playing out in Elizaveta's mind.

"Is that what you wanted because it was not what I wanted." she sobbed, collapsing to the floor and hitting herself in the head. She closed her eyes shut as she did not want to face the world again, she had become a murderer. God could not forgive this sin, who possibly could, and so that is the mark of another fallen angel. Another sin will inevitably follow the first. She sobbed untill the guilt had consumed her every thought. Should she live or just bleed? She knew what was right, to let herself succumb to the flame in order to balance out this path of evil. This fills her mind untill a cry penitrated the silence. A cry that is in vain, who would forgive her now? She is worse than the people's views on the king. Hopeful despite everything; the sky has sentenced her to a life of pain and worry. A life she already led before the sentence of the sky. She then realised what has to be done.

She woke from his haze of denial with a start. She knew now what she had to do, although it wasn't pleasant. She did love her wife but times call for desperate measures. The balcony door seemed further away than before, almost impossible to reach but she knew that this was her mind's doing- how else would such violent thoughts manifest into monstrous worry? She burst back into the top of floor of the dance hall. The jovial meetings of the commoners and the royalty were abruptly halted, they knew what was going to happen.   
"STOP, STOP EVERYTHING!" she balled. The melody turned into an eerie silence. The people hushed in fear of the broken Duchess. She gave a smile and simply said   
"Natalya, my sweet rose," The young woman stepped forward and smiled at her love. She started that sentence in her usual tone, as smooth as silk. "You have been accused of high treason, how do you plead!?" she finished in a snarling manner. This was a lie and she knew it, anything to get rid of the ones who know her pain. It was a cruel way out, letting such a fragile person fall in such abhorrent manners but Elizaveta knew the price. Maybe even Natalya knew the price of flying too close to aristocracy, all that was destined was pain.  
"Life is but a game my dear friends, only you know how to play it in a way that helps another, deceives another. You must choose wisely who you seek to destroy because this may be the end of you" she spoke in a monotonous voice as she watched as the (aparently) love of her life is dragged away from her. From the very fabric of existence.


	3. Chapter 3

"Here comes the bride she whispered in a psychotic, raspy voice. A woman was patrolling the ground below, she had a blood stained knife in her left hand. Luckily, I am in a tree , way above her. My older sister sat beside me, trying to calm me down. My increased breathing speed, slight shaking and teary eyes suggest that it isn't working. I love my sister but she couldn't help this feeling of impending doom settling in my chest. With a slight sigh of defeat, she slumped back to the tree trunk. Nothing could come close to consoling me, we weren't going to make it out of this alive. Our inevitable fate is sealed in the deepest it of my soul. We are to die. My sudden realisation hit me harder than I thought, it almost pulled me into a void of denial. I began to wimper with every breath, this being made worse by the ripping air. If anything could make it worse, it would be that. My already overworked mind was giving in to my imagination, what if she kills us. Ambrus mainly, I couldn't care less about myself as I will be brought back into another life. It is only a matter of time before she hears me. Ambrus placed her hands on my shoulders, this didn't comfort me or stop my shaking. She was the calm one now (as usual), she has always been the one that would face my fears with me. I had never really been one for fear-led behaviour, well in my past lives, but this was truly terrifying for all types of people. Maybe it will be worse for the fact that she is my ex wife from a past life. We were married but I had her killed for the fear in my mind. My sister, no matter what, could always keep such a calm way about her, maybe it is the fact that she is older than me and therefore more rational. For that I have idolised her and never left her side.

A gentle breeze calms my mind and tugs on my hoodie. The thought of the woman vanished from my mind as I think of the reasons as to why the woman is attacking us? I haven't done anything to harm anyone in this life. _Nobody_ in this life would want to harm us, it must be someone from my past life, clearly one of the only people that I have betrayed in my many lives. As a Neonblood, I have had many lives, all led in different places and different times- I have even had many lives on earth. I do not wish to brag but I was a ruler back in this specific life, a rather tyrannical and powerful one at that. People feared but respected me, something that I revelled in at the time. A part of my lives which I do not want to talk about came back into my mind; I was the one who killed my lover. All for the price of a few more moments of my own pitiful existance. They all found out, not long after I killed Natalya, that I am a neonblood and had me executed I owened a manor house in Seropia (in Neon's country district), this gave me power over the people living there. ** _Why both of us us?_** I thought. _**Who, from my past, could possibly want to kill me**?_  This brought back floods of memories. I was abruptly dragged into them.  
                                                                     *                   *                     *              *               *  
  
"Duchess Elizaveta Hedevary" a more familiar name (to me) was announced as I walked onto the cream coloured balcony. My hands were covered in the blood of Cecilia, the Archduke of Octavia's maid. My thoughts were spinning, the fresh burden of sin lay heavy in my heart. God could mot forgive me for that deed and surely he could not forgive the next. I tried to cast this to the back of my mind as I focus on the crowd of masked dancers that stood below me.  All of them stood in silence, they looked at me with fear, respect  and awe. I stood proudly and,if I do say so myself,a slight hint of arrogance and self importance swept my actions. They were obviously taken aback by my entrance and I fed off that attention.  
  
One of these people stood out to me, Natalya. My wife and, I thaught to be, love of my life. She wore a silk and satin dress coloured in the deepest crimson. A black cape trailed from the back of it. Her porcelain face was covered by a mask made from peacock feathers and rose gold. Her hair framed the corners of the mask, it was coloured with the deepest shade of blonde, an angel's wing could not compare to the majesty of her hair. Images of her eyes filled my mind. Those beautiful eyes are the feeling of a warm breeze on a summers day. Despite this they could go from that to many ships crashing against the torrent of storm filled waves within seconds.  
  
"My dear Marceline" I begin in a(soon to change) soothing manner. Despite this, my mind was telling a story of anger, betryal and a deep fear. A fear that she will unveil my true identity. For I am not human, I am different."You have been accused of high treason. How do you plead?!" I ball,my voice resonated around the pale, marble walls. With that, the band stopped playing. The room was overwhelmed by my sudden change"No,No I didn-"I cut her pleas short with an order for her to be arrested. And with that my mind faded back to the real world. * * * 

 

Variations of that day have haunted me throughout my life. They do not appear the same because details manage to blur themselves as years pass.  
"I see you Elizaveta, or should I call you something else in this world?" she laughed. How does she know that name? No one in this life should know that name. I began to reclaim my terror. My sister stared at me and then the woman.she seemed to think of something, a plan."Liz?" She whispered, I nodded in acknowledgement as I was too terrified to speak."Just remember that I did it for you..." she trailed off and slid from the branch. At first I did not understand her actions and the reasoning behind them but then it all made sense.  The pain of said actions hit me like a cricket ball to the chest. The tears that now fell are sad rather than fearful. She gave her life to save me, she jumped to give me time to escape. Her body sank to the floor and the woman quickly gained the message, she grabbed her by the hair.  
  
The next part of my memory, I would quite rather not remember. As it is essential for the completion of my life account, I will relive it.  
  
I slowly peered over the cluster of branches that lay underneath this one. The woman has her now and there is nothing I can do to change it.  
"Elizaveta, how do you feel about someone else dying, someone you love. Or did you even love me?" the woman lashed out, cutting Ambrus' throat.  
"AMBRUS, NO! WHY ?!" I cried. My sister's last words linger inside my head:  
"Liz, I did it for you" she then fell to the dark, cobbled floor. Her spirit was fading before my eyes. The woman then turned to me with a demonic grin.  
"How does it feel, you let another person close to you die, you are nothing but the Duchess of broken hearts"  
  
These words have haunted me ever since that day. They caused some terrible things to happen but I would rather not speak of them, more than the other happenings. Due to all of this I have changed myself. Now I am not that naïve, innocent girl anymore, lets say people die.


End file.
